


The Only Exception

by Auraspirit157



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, Forgive Me, Gen, Heartbreak, Humor, I'm Sorry, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 12:52:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4565355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auraspirit157/pseuds/Auraspirit157
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When your father is a genocidal sociopath bent on bringing order to a lawless planet, you might have trouble making friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Exception

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, but I like exploring this father-daughter warm and fuzzy relationship between Handsome Jack and Angel. I couldn't help but write a story for it. I hope you enjoy :)

When she screamed there was lightning.

That is, her power taking out almost half the electricity in the facility. So much so that the alarm went off.

She didn't care. She was scared, very, very scared

She didn't usually have nightmares, at least not recently. Her young life here was so overly cozy, so close-to-perfect why would she?

Her dad barged in minutes after the blackout, almost running into a mirror floating much out of her control. He sighed slowly, clearly trying to hide his frustrations. He strides over in that weird corporate grace that she thought a lot of people liked to mimic, but never got right. He lowers himself at the side of her small bed, running a scarred hand through her hair.

"You really need to stop doing that to the lights, pumpkin," he laughs, but it's not a nice laugh, it's one of those tired ones.

Daddy was different around her. She knows because his eyes are different. She noticed once, watching him. There is something...a different light, like a mask. She likes to imagine him taking an invisible mask off before seeing her, so he doesn't make her nervous.

Because he makes a lot of people nervous.

"I had a nightmare..." She whispers, hugging her legs, her black hair dropping down over her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, kiddo," He sighs, seeming to be going through some kind of motions, "Was it a giant skag again?"

"No…"

"The space squid?"

"No…"

"Darn," Dad laughs, that one a bit lighter, "I like that one."

"It wasn’t like the others..." the siren continues, "I was...I was lying in this weird room...I couldn't move. And you were there, you kept saying everything would be OK but I didn't believe you...they were plugging all this stuff into me...and you said I was going away, up in the computers and stuff."

Daddy was quiet for a long time.

"And then it was different! There was this big explosion, and you had this scar are your face...!" She traces a V down his face before collapsing into him, hugging him with as iron a grip as she can muster, "You were killing a bunch of people that didn't deserve it...it was all really scary." She buries her face in his coat, "You were really scary..."

Dad didn't say much, but he pulled her closer, muscles relaxing, and he hugged her back. There was so much in it that he neglected to share the majority of the time. For three solid seconds she felt him breath, felt his heart, his spirit grow light for her, for comfort.

Then he was stone again, pulling away and looking at her with these tired eyes, "It's just a dream pumpkin. Probably felt pretty real, but it wasn't." he sighs softly, "Anything I do to you is for the best."

She was too young to get it, maybe. But somehow, deep down, the little siren knew her dad was evading. She wanted him to say he would never be so violent. She wanted him to say he would be there for her and love her and never let anything get in the way. But maybe he was too sleepy to be so reassuring.

After a moment she nods a little, "Okay daddy..."

He smiles, genuine for a second then forced for the next. He hugged her again, but it didn't feel the same way as the first. This one was obligated.

He stands afterword, walking to the door, muttering words she didn't understand.

But she was still afraid.

"Dad." she calls to him, knowing it wasn't right. She should get over it, sleep it off, but she needed this.

He turns, not asking, just waiting for her question.

She closes her eyes, taking a breath, "I want you to promise me something."

"Promise you what?" his voice is softer, but still gruff, like he was fighting another side of him that wanted to ignore her completely.

"Promise me you'll be my father forever.” she says, childishly. It was so much to ask.

He's watching her from across the room, and she can feel his aura shift. He moves back to her, picking her up so suddenly the fear is back in again and she wants to scream. But it melts away.

He's hugging her again.

He sinks down, still holding her close, sitting at the edge of the bed, “Listen to me, “ he whispers, looking down at with her with eyes she didn’t recognize, emotion she’s never seen, “You don’t understand it now, but I can’t love people. Love doesn’t really exist. In my experience; they always betray you in the end.”

She could feel his muscles tense. Or were they her own? She pulls away, torn up inside, “But—“

“You’re different.”

“What…?

“You’re my daughter,” he smiles, even if it’s small it lightens her mood, “And no matter what happens, no matter how I act or what I do, I want you to know that you’re the only exception.”

She knew he wasn’t lying. That fact alone made the little siren girl grin, all the fear she harbored gone like a brief desert storm, “So you promise?”

He smiling again, “I promise.” 

That’s all she needed to hear. She brushes away her long hair, pecking her father on the cheek, “Thanks…”

He grins, though this is a different kind of smile, the kind he used after telling a joke he thought was particularly funny, “Don’t let it go to your head,” he rises, heading to the door as the lights start to flicker back on, “Still not teaching you to shoot until you’re…eh…maybe twelve.”

She was okay with that, already curling under the covers, promptly allowing all the things floating in the room to drop to the ground. She vaguely hears someone in the hall hit the floor with a grunt, making her laugh just a little. In her rush to sleep again, she didn’t notice her father lingering at the door, not facing her, just seeming to be thinking about something really hard. The siren turns, bunched up in the covers, “You okay dad?”

Her father glances back, deep brown eyes troubled, but to anyone else he’d look emotionless, “Goodnight, Angel.” He says softly, leaving without answering her question, closing the door quietly behind him.

The little siren thought on her father’s words in the dark, not understanding all of them. How can someone, who believed love didn’t exist, make room for her? She knew it had something to do with her mother, but she hadn’t dared mention her. Maybe she was overthinking it, or maybe it was too much for her to fully comprehend at the tender age of eight. But it was then, in the wake of her nightmare, she decided something. 

If love didn’t exist, she didn’t need it, did she?

From now on, she wouldn’t expect so much from people. Her mother didn’t love her, did she? She wouldn’t have left if she did. Perhaps it was better to not expect so much.

There was only three times in her life that she cried. The first was when she was born.

The second was when she found out love wasn’t worth it.

~888~

Every day Angel watches the stars.

The perk of living in a giant space station was the fantastic view. She used to settle with watching the moon’s orbit and ships travels from the large window in her bedroom. But what was the fun in that when you can sit right in it? 

Her abilities give her a sense of gravity as she crawls out a small window into the endless void, an OzKit giving her plenty of air to breath. This was definitely unsafe, but it made it all the more satisfying. Clinging to the metal, she settles herself on the tip of Helios’ H-shaped structure, looking out at the void and Pandora below. The planet’s moon, Elpis, was just behind her, silent and grey. 

“You look beautiful from here,” the young siren speaks to herself, her voice echoing in her oxygen mask, “No one would know that you’re full of murderers and thieves.”

She swings her legs back and forth off the edge of oblivion, wondering what else is out there, beyond Pandora, beyond everything. Sometimes how much she thought about it disturbs her. She had everything she could ever want and yet…

She’s getting dramatic again. That’s so annoying.

“Jeez space, why do you depress me so much!” She calls out, “Cheer up! You’ve got all sorts of beautiful things and—“ She stops, looking down below her, something just floating into view.

A person. Well, a corpse, actually, recently suffocated by the lethal atmosphere. From what she can tell, it was…Dave; Dave from accounting. 

Angel sigh, short and rough, “Dad…” she groans, pushing off her support and guiding herself to the deceased employee. She liked Dave, a lot of people liked Dave, but he was kind of a terrible accountant under pressure. 

She keeps her psychic pull on the station as she reaches him, catching his pale wrist. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance. He deserved some positive words.

“Dave was a man of many talents,” Angel speaks with a clear throat a makeshift eulogy, “He had lots of friends, a really awkward snorting laugh, and could clear a room with the BO he didn’t know he had. And…” she pauses, grasping at straws, taking a relatively nice pen from his shirt, holding it up in the air, “He had adequate writing utensils, like most quality human…beings…”

She looks down at Dave’s lifeless face; it permanently stuck in an absolutely terrified expression. He probably screwed up one time too many times, at least, in front of her dad. And here she was giving him terrible final words. It wasn’t her fault that he was a boring person.

“I hope whatever you did was worth killing you over, “ she continues, then sighs, “But it probably wasn’t.” there’s a pause, not really knowing what else to say, so she gives him a little push, his body floating with a bit more speed out into oblivion, “Go! Be free Dave from accounting, crunch numbers in that big beautiful corporation in the sky! Other then…this one…I guess.”

Jeez she’s an awkward person. No wonder she doesn’t have any friends. 

Or it might be because her dad was a complete psychopath; that might be the reason too. 

She turns, directly facing the window to her father’s office. Unfortunately, he was still in there. Even more unfortunately, he was staring right back at her. She could tell by the way he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed that he was annoyed, not to say she wouldn’t have known that even without that cue. 

He reaches up, touching a small device in his ear, soon his voice buzzing to life in her own, “Angel…” he said slowly, some excess frustration in it, but also a bitter laughter, “You’re never going to believe this, there is girl that looks exactly like you floating outside my window, can you believe that?” 

The siren sighs, urging herself closer to the metal, clicking her own ECHO communicator online, “I get it dad, I’ll just go back to my room—” She mutters, gripping the edge of his window as she gets close.

He points to the ground next to him, “Nope. Right here cupcake.” 

“Really? Don’t you have someone else to murder?”  
“Not at the moment.”

“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse.” 

“Just…just get in here.”

Angel sighs, really not wanting to talk to him, but glad he’s at least trying to tone down the genocidal maniac thing for her. She reaches the airlock door just next to his office, letting herself in. The sudden gravity was enough to make her stumble when she closes the door. She takes a breath, slipping into the hall and rounding off to his office.

He was already right there when she enters, arms crossed and looking down at her. If she weren’t his daughter, he would intimidate the hell out of her. Other than his overall demeanor and presence, which was bad enough, it was impossible to really see what he was thinking unless he wanted you to. The prosthetic mask he wore was incredibly easy on the eyes, but not anything else. She supposed as his name was warranted. 

That is, the name Handsome Jack; the CEO of Hyperion, and her problematic father.

He watches her with mismatched irises, silent for a moment. She could tell he was calculating a response to her rule breaking. Unlike the other employees, he couldn’t throw her out of the airlock or strangle her or cut her tongue out. No, all he had was words with her, and she was impossible to intimidate. 

Her father opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, rubbing his temples and letting out a rough sigh, “You can’t…Angel you can’t just float out in space,” he says carefully, “That’s…dangerous…”

“Dad, “ she stops him, patting his shoulder, “I know you’re trying, but I’m fine out there! I got to see Pandora, did some deep thinking, even said hi to Dave! You know Dave, from accounting? The one you threw out the airlock?” she raises her voice just a little with her bitterness. She had already done two things that would have gotten the average employee’s teeth kicked in at the very least. 

Jack’s eyes narrow, brow furrowing in perfect angry fashion, “I’m serious Angel you can’t friggin fly around in the vacuum of space its friggin space it’s a void that would kill you if your OzKit malfunctioned or you decided to do something more stupid.”

“Did you tell Dave that?”

“Would you— are you trying to freaking guilt trip me cupcake?”

“Oh, no, just trying to make you feel bad for once!”

“Hey! Great news, that’s the exact definition of guilt tripping.”

“Oh jeez, when you put it like that it sound like murder—oh wait, you’re pretty good at that!”

“See? Look you’re still freaking doing it!”

“Well maybe if I keep doing it, it will actually work.” 

“And maybe if I keep making examples of these idiot employees people will actually work!”

Angel wants to respond to that, but her words come out as a frustrated groan, turning away from him and crossing her arms. Her father does the same, though it’s more like a mocking mimic of her own noise. 

The walls in the office humming quietly and the buzz of lights are the only things that fill the silence that follows. She doesn’t want to be the one to apologize; she was like her father in that way. Both of them were too stubborn to admit they were wrong, so these moments could go on for a while. 

So imagine her surprise when she hears a soft sigh escape her father. She glances behind her, seeing his shoulders from the back slump, his eyes closed. That was the first time her let up before her in a while.

“…Angel…” he starts to speak, but doesn’t finish his sentence. He was fighting that side of him again, she knew; and it was killing him inside.

“Dad,” she speaks, knowing she shouldn’t, knowing she should make him do this, but she can’t, “It’s alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone to far from the station. I was just angry I guess.”

His shoulders straightened, looking at her with a hard gaze. That fighting look was gone, but she was disappointed by the side that won, even if he’s smiling, “Eh, don’t worry about it pumpkin, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.” 

She smiles through her own mental frustration, “Oh, gee, that means so much. Maybe I’ll live longer then the average employee here to appreciate it.”

“Ha, you’ll live a lot longer then that, I’ll make sure of it.” He wasn’t even acknowledging her bitterness now, walking back to his desk, “Just…I mean, don’t get yourself killed. I do a lot to keep you safe, but if you’re being stupid I can’t exactly prevent the inevitable.” 

“I guess I can understand that. Can I leave now?”

“Yeah, jeez, I—“ he scoffs, chuckling to himself, “I can’t even remember what the hell I wanted to tell you. Don’t even grow old kiddo, it freaking sucks.”

Angel tries to keep her smile, “You were trying to tell me what to do again. It didn’t work,” she turns, opening the door and looking back, “Don’t work too hard old man.”

He laughs, “Ha! You’re so lucky you’re my daughter, or I might just have…” he trails off, turning and laughing to himself as he looks out the window. He might have finished the sentence, but she didn’t hear him; she was already out the door.

She waits until she’s down the hall to cry out, kicking a trashcan completely over. The intercom system blares to life, a dull robotic voice droning to send a janitor. She groans again, tapping her head against the wall, “Why do I always let him win? Gosh I’m such a amateur.” 

“Hey, um…are you alright?” 

The voice was familiar. She turns her head, still propping it up against the wall, “Oh,” she grumbles, moving head back so she watches the floor, “Hey, Rhys.”

Rhys was one of a whole four people in the entirety of Helios that Angel could talk to. Surprisingly, he wasn’t absolutely terrified of her, which was usually the norm. You don’t exactly make friends with the CEO’s daughter without being highly god damned suspicious, especially in a corporation like Hyperion. Rhys, however, wasn’t an asshole in a place overflowing with them. He could act like an asshole, but only when he was trying to get by. 

Now he was watching her with general concern, “Uh, is there a reason you’re abusing trashcans? Because honestly, what did it ever do to you?”

“It was in my way so I kicked it.” She grumbles, punching the wall and pushing off it, glaring at him, “Why are you asking huh? You’ve got a problem?!”

“Whoa! No I definitely…” he laughs nervously, raising his hands, “I was not questioning you, nope, not in the slightest.”

“Don’t lie to me! Why are you—“ she stops, “Oh gosh I’m doing the—dammit! He’s contagious!” she turns, tapping her head against the wall and keeping it there, “I’m a mess…”

There’s a silence before a hesitant hand touches her shoulder, “Hey…” Rhys speaks, swallowing his nerves, “You need some coffee or something? You seem stressed out.”

Angel doesn’t respond for a moment, then pushes off the wall, managing a smile, “Yeah, Rhys, I’d like that. Thanks.” She walks forward, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay.”  
Rhys catches up behind her, “You don’t have to, it’s alright I mean, and it can be my treat.”

“Rhysie, my dad bought a living diamond horse and named it Butt Stallion just to show how rich he is,” she smirks at him, “I think you can let me buy you coffee.”

He sighs; trying to make it seem like defeat, though she knows it’s out of relief. The poor guy was probably hoping deep down that she’d offer. She stays beside him, lingering, glad someone on this whole damn hunk of metal wasn’t intimidated by her.

It was good to have a friend.


End file.
